


Doug

by LanceTheFuckerTucker



Category: Sebastian Stan - Fandom
Genre: F/M, I Tonya, Sebastian Stan's glorious facial hair, moustache
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 05:27:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9420635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanceTheFuckerTucker/pseuds/LanceTheFuckerTucker
Summary: Sebastian grows some questionable facial hair that you're not too sure about.





	

Usually, you were thrilled when Sebastian had to change his appearance for work; you rolled with the blonde, you loved the muscle, but there was one change you just couldn’t get down with.

You told yourself that you could deal with it as the hair on his upper lip grew before he left for filming. You wouldn’t see it during most of its lifespan anyway. But when Sebastian returned home, to your horror, it was still there.

“You haven’t shaved that thing?” you asked, dismayed as soon as he walked through the door.

“Hello to you too,” he huffed, pulling you in for a kiss, which you swiftly avoided, “you didn’t miss me?” he pouted.

“I did but please just shave it, it’ll take two seconds,” you whined.

But he loved to piss you off. Loved it. And you were stubborn. So you had entered yourselves into a stalemate over a moustache. Which lasted three days.

When he wasn’t busy, Sebastian would sit in front of the tv, casually combing it with the tiniest comb you had ever seen. He’d tweak the ends into little handlebars as he read over his latest script. He called it ‘Doug’. And if there was one thing that was clear in your mind, it was that Doug must die.

But how to go about it? You couldn’t just ambush Sebastian with a razor while he slept. He was a light sleeper. You had to resort to blackmail.

On what would be the morning of the fourth day of the stalemate, you grabbed one of Sebastian’s shirts and slipped into it, the material barely hit the tops of your thighs. It was perfect leverage. Crawling onto him, ready to make your bargain, you prodded his chest sharply with two fingers.

“M’not shaving Doug, you can’t make me,” he groaned, his eyes still closed.

“Sebby,” you cooed, giving your hips a slight roll against him.

“What?” he responded, opening his eyes.

“I think I’m ready to talk terms,” you announced.

But he was on to you before you had the chance to put your plan into full effect. Sitting up, he saw you were wearing one of his shirts. You looked great in it, but he wasn’t going to fall for it, so he got in there first. “You’re gonna blackmail me? Really?” he asked, raising a sarcastic eyebrow.

“No,” you replied, thumbing the hem of the shirt, trying to feign ignorance.

He rubbed his eyes with a smile. “Ok, I tell you what,” he began, pulling you into him by your hips and giving you a wink, “come back to bed for a little while, and, when we’re done, if you still want Doug gone, I’ll shave him off. Deal?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Alright.”

Needless to say, Doug stuck around for another few days after that.


End file.
